Exquisite Little Tart
by soapyraindrops
Summary: Paily AU one shot. Very porny, no plot. Paige is gender bending in London, meets a rich American girl. Sparks fly. Rated M for a good reason.


**Sigh. I've been having trouble writing the next chapter of When Things Work Out but ages ago Cici mentioned seeing if there were any other scenes from Sarah Waters that I might be able to work Paily into. **

**This is an attempt at re-creating that scene in Tipping the Velvet where Nan gets picked up by Diana. **

**Read, review and enjoy, pervs. **

It's taken me a few years but I'm pretty sure I've got the swagger down now. I'm strutting my stuff along the streets of London, dressed as a dude and anyone looking at me would assume I'm a very pretty young man, out on the town, maybe looking to hook up with another guy considering the district I'm in. I'm wearing smart grey trousers, a sweater, tie and a nice shirt underneath. I've bound my breasts for the evening to complete the ensemble and I look very dapper, very preppy. It's cold and wet out here, and I'm probably not wearing enough but at least I know I look good.

I turn off Tottenham Court Road and stride towards Soho Square. The grassy bit in the middle is locked up at this time of night; I'm pretty sure the City of London figured out real quick that leaving a place like that open in a place like this would turn it into the perfect dogging park in the middle of the city. At any rate, I'm not here for sitting on the grass. It's 2am and I've been wandering around town since 10 and I'm wondering whether to give up on the night and go home since it's an unusually quiet Friday night.

I light a cigarette and lean against the park railings for a minute. A black cab turns into the square from Greek Street and takes a snail's pace along the road as if its occupant is looking for something. It's dark inside the car; I can't make out the passenger although the driver looks like nothing special. They pass me and crawl off down the road and I forget about them for the moment. I linger over my cigarette and start off down Carlisle Street at the other end of the square, thinking Piccadilly Circus might have more interesting people about. I'm almost at Dean Street when the cab turns up again and crawls past, going in the opposite direction it was before, and this time I get a glimpse of long, raven hair on the inside, lit by a streetlight as it goes by. I start to get puzzled by this now but figure it's some straight tourist who's lost and has given her driver the wrong address. It's a few minutes later that I really start to frown as the cab turns up again, this time rolling to a stop a metre ahead of me. I pause.

I hope they aren't about to ask me for directions. I know my way around Central London now, but I'm not from here and if she starts asking me for directions to places I don't know I'm gonna sound like an idiot. I linger a few steps back and nothing happens. I can see the outline of a woman's head and shoulders in the cab but she's making no move to signal to me. I take a few steps forward, keeping myself a safe distance from the cab just in case and I peer inside. I still can't see her face; there's light shining into the cab from the streetlamp outside but her head is in the shadow. All the light is highlighting is her gorgeous tan legs, muscular and endless and already I don't care who this girl is or what she wants, she's gonna get it from me.

"Are you getting in?" she asks, and I'm surprised that her voice is American; I was expecting a posh English girl, but this works too. I barely hesitate, the thought of those long legs draped over my shoulders as I lick what's in between too much to resist. I climb in next to her, shutting the door behind me and suddenly remember I'm dressed as a boy today. Christ, I hope she doesn't think I am one. I can smell her perfume now and I really don't want her to ask me to leave. The cab starts to move and we take off at normal speed. It's so dark in this cab and the only light comes from outside, I'm trying to get a good look at this girl but it's just not happening. I don't even notice where I'm being driven until we stop a few minutes later and the driver gets out and opens the door for me.

My mouth drops open as I stare up at the word "Ritz" in front of me and realise we are at the most famous and expensive hotel in London. This chick cannot be serious. I climb back out of the car and start to panic – an incredibly rich girl who thinks I am a boy and has legs longer than Shaftesbury Avenue has just invited me to join her. There are so many ways this could go wrong.

I watch as her legs and then the rest of her emerge from the cab. She shakes her head to put her hair back off her face and if I wasn't panicking before then I'm outright hyperventilating now because this girl is gorgeous. Not just gorgeous – she's perfect. She looks like she just stepped out of a fashion magazine. Short black dress, big wavy dark hair that falls over her shoulders as if every strand has been placed there by a designer. Sexy black heels. I gulp and allow my eyes to follow the curve of her body back up to her face and then I gulp again for the hell of it. She's staring at me like she wants to eat me whole and I feel a wetness developing between my legs that is totally out of my control. She definitely thinks I'm a guy and she definitely looks straight, or at least as femme as femme gets. She motions for me to follow and starts walking inside the hotel. I stumble over myself as I try to follow, stammering as I go.

"W- wait, I think you've made a mistake. See, I'm not a-"

"I know exactly what you are." she says, stopping to let me catch up and I am silenced by her definitive tone and the way she looks at my groin, obviously seeing the bulge there. I wonder if that's quite true but decide to let it play out anyway.

I barely notice the grandeur of the hotel as we head towards an elevator and stand in awkward silence as it goes up and up and up. She is staring straight ahead and hasn't acknowledged me since she was looking at my crotch and my heart is beating so loud it's making my head hurt. We reach her floor and she strolls out, walking on her high heels and swaying her hips in the sexiest way possible. She reaches her door at the end of the corridor and walks in, leaving it open behind her. I follow her in and close it behind me and take in her room. It's not just one room – she's got a suite and the room she has taken me into appears to be a formal living room; it has fancy couches, a working desk and several high-backed antique chairs. It's very grand and she moves around as if she owns it.

"Do you have a name?" she asks as she walks over to a bottle of Champagne in a shiny silver cooler and pours herself a glass.

"Paige McCullers. And you might offer me a glass of bubbly?" I say as I notice there's an empty glass next to the one she picked up. She raises her eyebrow at me, gives me a grin that could melt the Eiffel Tower and pours me some as well. I walk over to her, nervous as hell, to take it and I notice she doesn't just hand it to me. She holds it so that I have to reach out the entire way, invading her personal space in the process, in order to get it. She smells amazing and I'm mesmerised by how perfect her tanned skin is. I wonder where she's from; her accent was American, and I guess she could have some Latino descent but that doesn't seem to fit. I'm still standing very close to her and have forgotten all about the glass in my hand as I stare. She looks away and sips at her Champagne, a small smirk on her lips as I watch her.

"You're very interesting, Miss McCullers," she says and I'm relieved to hear the "miss" in that, "I've seen you around."

I quirk my eyes at her in a question.

"I saw you in the basement in G-A-Y last week but you weren't dressed as a boy then. When I saw you tonight, I was sure you were the same girl and I couldn't help but see what you would do."

I remember that night, although I don't remember seeing her. I was still dressed very queer but hadn't packed or bound for the evening and was having a light night with my mates.

"You liked what you saw?"

"I like what I see," she says, turning her head to me and giving me an up and down that sends heat directly to my groin.

"And what do you want?" I ask, returning her look and lingering over the curve at her waist.

She grins at me and downs the rest of her drink before closing the gap between us and reaching for the button of my trousers. I watch as she opens the zip and pulls them apart, reaching into my boxer shorts and grabbing hold of the stiff dildo tucked down my leg. She pulls it up so it's pointing towards her and runs her hands to the sides of my hips before pushing my trousers and shorts all the way down. I stand still like a lemon, holding onto my glass, momentarily stunned by how fast this is happening. She takes the drink from me, pauses and offers it back in case I want some before this goes full steam ahead. I shrug and down half of it, feeling the fizz run down my throat and the alcohol rush to my head. I put the glass back down on the counter and turn to her, kicking my trousers off to the side.

She takes my hand and leads me to one of the high backed chairs and then makes me sit down on it. Turning away from me, she slides the straps of her little black dress down her shoulders, bending her arms back to undo the zip and tugs the whole lot off. Her arse is to die for but I don't get to look at it for very long before she turns around and I see her fully naked, her pert round breasts topped with an erect nipple, a little fashionably trimmed landing strip at the apex of her thighs, the taut muscles of her stomach and, again, those legs that make me think this must be a dream because they are far too good to be true. She is still, I notice, wearing those heels.

She steps towards me and swings her leg over, her hand coming in between us to take the dildo and position it at her entrance. I get a tantalising glance at her cunt lips and I can see she's glistening with arousal and although I'm going to let her take the lead now, I know that at some point I'm going to want to get my own way with her and I really hope she's going to let me.

She lowers herself onto me, the dildo slipping inside and the pressure of her weight presses the base of the dildo directly against my straining clit. She starts to move, rising up again to draw it out before sinking down, letting out a little moan of pleasure. Her arms come up around my neck and she leans her face forward to rest against my shoulder, bringing her hips up and then slamming them down in my lap. It's the most simultaneously hot and anonymous sex I've ever had. I don't even know this girl's name; we haven't even kissed yet and I feel like I've got to hold back an orgasm because the way she's slamming down onto me is just that fucking hot.

I put my hands behind my back, gripping the side of the chair to keep my balance as this girl rides me roughly, standing up and slamming down, her moans turning into screams as she gets close. I desperately want to touch her but I am genuinely afraid we'll fall off the chair if I don't hold on, and besides, she doesn't look like she needs any guidance in getting what she wants. She's getting faster now, frantic, and there's sweat pouring down her body as she moves. She threads her fingers through my hair and pulls at it painfully as she loses all rhythm in her movements, slipping down onto me one last time as she rolls her hips and her muscles tense and she lets out a final, throaty scream. I come too, the pressure from her sitting on top of me and rolling her hips along with the sight of her coming undone is more than enough to push me over the edge with her.

She comes to a stop, the dildo still buried inside her and she slumps forward over me, no longer threatening to pull my hair out as she lets go of it and her muscles relax as I take her whole weight in my lap. I feel a warm wetness on my neck as she places a little kiss on it and snuggles against my skin. She follows a trail of kisses up my jaw until she reaches my mouth and kisses me there, breathlessly, as she chuckles. I'm feeling high as a kite right now and I honestly don't think I've ever tasted lips this good. My brain starts to clear as I come down from my orgasm enough for me to remember something.

"What's your name, by the way?" I say in between kissing her back.

"I'm Emily," she says, breaking the kiss, leaning back and rolling her hips for good measure, "Emily Fields"


End file.
